Guardian Angel
by Foxtrot Agent 21
Summary: Hunters. Before the war they were considered to be slayers, heroes, and protectors. During the war, monsters, demons, butchers, slicing through enemy forces with ease, able to decide the fate of the world with a single swing of their sword. They were feared by all. All except one. Because the beauty before him could only be one thing. And she certainly wasn't a demon.


Guardian Angel

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Jaune hated moments like this. That moment just before the two armies collided and the blood flew. In war-torn Remnant such moments were happening more and more often, much to the blonde soldier's disappointment. Back when he had joined the Valean Army he had expected it to be easy and glorious, despite the warnings and pleadings of his family. He hadn't paid much attention to the political climate between Vale and the other nations of Remnant back then, but he wished desperately these days that he had. Maybe then he wouldn't have joined less than a before year the Great War, as the civilians were calling it. 'Nothing great about it' the young man growled mentally as he finally drew his sword as the Mistralians got closer, lifting his shield to interlock it with his comrades' own shields, forming a deadly barrier that had been battle-tested and approved.

As the enemy got closer to Vale's walls Jaune's brothers-in-arms let loose a battle cry that Jaune soon took up, hearing and feeling the equal amounts of defiance and fear in the yell. Mistral's forces had steadily beaten Vale back to their capital, completely ignoring most other cities in hopes of taking their most precious city and ending the war swiftly. So far, it had worked.  
The Mistralians were even closer now; he could see the faces of those leading the charge clearly. He could see the determination in their eyes, as well as their fear. No one wanted to be on this battlefield, even if Mistral's army was almost twice the size of Vale's defenders.

Then the shots of Vale's marksmen rang out over the roars of the two armies and suddenly Jaune stopped caring about what was about to happen. In his first battle, he had frozen from fear and horror at the thought of killing another person, nearly getting killed in the process. Since then he had found out that the best way to live through and survive a battle was to empty himself of emotion. There would be time to grieve and lament, should he survive. And so he tightened his grip on his sword and shield, traded glances with the men next to him, and watched the front line of the Mistralians fall. And then the second line crashed into the defenders of Vale, and the battle began for Jaune Arc.

Jaune shoved with his shield just as an enemy soldier crashed into it, sending painful vibrations up the blonde's arm but also sending the other man stumbling back into his comrades. Jaune, seeing his chance, stepped forward and rammed his sword through the stunned man's throat, avoiding the dying man's eyes as he looked for the next threat. It didn't take long too find it. The man was easily a head taller than the blonde soldier and wielded some sort of spiked club that he sent slamming down at Jaune. The young man brought his already battered shield up just in time to block the deadly blow, letting out a short scream as he felt the full power of the hit even through his shield. He felt the club rise again and barely blocked the second blow, this time using both hands to support his only means of defense. It didn't stop the excruciating pain as he felt something in his left arm give way to the strain nor did it stop his shield from bucking backwards and slamming him in his face and sending him to the ground.

Jaune tried to scramble away from the enemy warrior but found his shield stuck under the man's foot. Jaune looked up at the grinning warrior who raised his club to deliver the killing blow that the blonde knew he couldn't stop- and then the warrior's head exploded as one of Vale's marksmen hit his target, and saved Jaune's life in the process.

Said blonde didn't waste any time moving back towards his allies as soon as the large man's weight was off of his shield, stabbing an enemy soldier in the back as he reached the remaining Valean soldiers. Despite how well Vale's defenders had been fighting it was obvious that the sheer numbers of Mistral had led to a swift cut down of Jaune's comrades. 'The only things holding them off are the marksmen,' Jaune figured as he stabbed his blade into a boy that looked even younger than him. 'Why the hell are we out here, when we could be hiding inside the walls? This doesn't make any sense!'

Such thoughts began to mix with the rage and panic of war as the soldier dodged a vicious stab from a Mistralian and followed it up with a chop into the man's exposed throat, pulling his blade out just in time to block a blow that would have taken his own head off. He turned to face the new threat with a shout, ready to strike back, when he felt fire course into his shield arm as yet another enemy attacked him. This time his shout was one of pain though it was quickly cut off by his first attacker ramming a gauntlet into the blonde's face. Jaune stumbled back and tripped, landing on the ground with such force that what little breath he had retained was knocked out of him. He instinctively clutched at his throat with both hands as he tried to suck in air, and this action saved his life once again. As his shield went up with his arm (because unlike his sword, which he had already dropped, his shield was strapped to his arm) his two attackers swung down in unison, and this time he was certain he felt his arm snap under the pressure. He gritted his teeth in agony as the bones in his arm shattered and stabbed into flesh and muscle, but a full blown scream erupted from his lips as one of the enemy soldiers knocked his shield out of the way of their blade and both stabbed down at the unarmed blonde. To Jaune's surprise, his life didn't flash before his eyes, like he had heard happened in a deadly situation from the veterans. In fact, he only had one thought: 'Please, Oum, not like this.'

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The General looked down at the battle from his spot on top of Vale's high outer walls. He had gotten used to the near robotic firings of the Valean marksmen as they attempted to hold back the invaders, but he knew that they would be overrun. In fact, his plan counted on that inevitability, and so he watched his troops be slaughtered with a frown. Their sacrifice would be worth it, he repeated in his mind as he watched a kid who couldn't have been older than sixteen be decapitated by an invader. He forced himself not to flinch at the brutality of the war on his doorstep and instead to watch. By Oum, he would not look away from the men who were giving their lives so that Vale could survive. After all, only after immense bloodshed and loss would the second inevitability of the general's plan come to fruition. Though, it was taking a little longer than he had anticipated.

"What are you doing?" Ah, there it is.

The General turned to face the newcomer, allowing an arrogant scowl to crawl onto his face. He had to sell this next part well, or the entire war would be lost. "I am defending Vale from the invaders, Professor," he retorted with fiery anger that was in stark contrast to the other man's remarkable calm. "What does it look like?"

"It looks like you're throwing away the lives of hundreds of men for no good reason." Despite the Professor's composure, the General could hear the subtle rage in the other man's tone. The General cracked a smirk to infuriate the teacher even more, and also to hide the guilt that was soaking through him at this very moment.

"This is how wars are won, dear _schoolteacher_ , though I doubt you'd understand that. Now I know that the council might hang on your every word and treat you like some kind of bloody king," the General stepped closer to the silver haired man until they were less than a foot apart, glaring into the man's brown eyes, "but I personally think that you have no place on the battlefield, let alone my wall! So, if you don't mind, I want you out of my sight. Go sit safe and cozy at your school and let me win this war!"

"You know your plan is stupid," the Professor protested in that rather annoyingly calm voice he always had. "All you're doing is getting all of your men killed in a useless last stand. You could have them inside the walls and-"

"Don't you give me orders!" The General roared, drawing the attention of some of the sharpshooters before they went back to fighting Mistral's forces. "You could have this battle over in less than ten minutes if you allowed your super soldiers to assist us, but you'd rather cower behind policy and let us be slaughtered than help us."

"Ah," the Professor suddenly nodded in comprehension, "so that's your plan. Throw away enough lives and force me to act."

The General felt the control of the conversation leaving him and fought a regain it. "You can't just sit back and let them overrun us! Do you think they'll just _let_ your school stand? Such a massive military encampment, right above their newly won land?"

The Professor let out a small smile, seemingly amused at the other man's floundering. "Beacon Academy is neutral and not biased towards any country and Mistral knows this. They also know that our targets are Grimm, not people."

"Oh, please!" The General snorted, running his hand through his greying blonde hair in agitation. "We both know that the Grimm are easily kept under control by a fraction of your students. To any commander with half a mind it's obvious that you're creating an army, Ozpin. And the Mistralians know that and they won't let it continue unsupervised."

"I'll take my chances. Now signal the retreat."

"No." That one word visibly shocked Professor Ozpin, much to the General's grim satisfaction.

The headmaster of Beacon masked his surprise and narrowed his eyes at the General. "Your soldiers will all die out there, General."

"Better here, in service of Vale, than forty years from now in subjugation to Mistral."

"General," Ozpin protested, "you can't be serious. You need to-"

"Ozpin," the other man interrupted calmly, turning his back on the professor, "the only thing I need to do is stay Valean, and die. Now leave."

Ozpin hesitated, the first time he had done so in years. "I can't let you send all of these men to needless deaths."

The General turned sharply towards the other man, glaring coolly into the younger man's brown eyes with his own ice blue ones. When he spoke Ozpin had to strain to hear his words over the reports of gunfire and the sounds of men dying below, "Then do something about it."

Ozpin stared wide-eyed at the General's audacity, as well as his faith in the professor's conscience. After all, he mused as he turned to look out over the battlefield, he could let them all die. It'd be a horrible waste, and the guilt would weigh heavily on him for the rest of his life, but what was one more mistake amongst the mountain of them that he had spent his entire life collecting?

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Jaune watched in astonishment as the two enemy soldiers, whose faces had been grim and somehow also gleeful a moment before, dropped dead before him. They died one after the other by marksmen on the wall and their swords that had been diving towards Jaune's chest glanced off of his meager chest plate as the two men fell to the ground. He felt a grin climb onto his face at the relief of still being alive, though he quickly went slack-jawed as an angel landed right in front of him, separating him from the Mistralians. It wasn't a literal angel, of course, but for Jaune the red-haired woman was the closest thing he'd ever seen.

She stood in front of his prone form heroically, aiming her rifle at the invaders while using her shield as a balance. She stood with the confidence of a veteran warrior as she stared at the suddenly frightened enemy soldiers and the battle seemed to freeze around Jaune as the young woman looked over her shoulder at him. "Are you alright?" She asked him in a kind voice, real concern in her eyes that made the blonde feel special, like all of her attention was devoted to him.

"Y-yes!" He blurted out as a blush rose unbidden to his face. "Nothing to worry about, anyway!"

The red haired beauty sent a small smile his way that sent the young soldier's heart pounding before she turned away. "I'm sorry I came so late," Jaune could barely hear her as the enemy's rage overcame their fear and they rushed at the wingless angel, "but I'm here now. I give you leave to rest."

Jaune scrambled to his feet, fear for the woman jolting him into action, but the Mistralians were upon the woman before he had even picked up his sword. Jaune let out a shout of fear, desperate to save the woman. After all, no matter how skilled she was, there was no way she'd be able to take on that many soldiers and survive. Jaune was humbled by how wrong he was.

As soon as the Mistralians were within striking distance the woman's gun changed, defying physics and morphing into a sword that she proceeded to massacre the invaders with. They would swing at her and she'd promptly block with either her sword or shield and then the enemy soldiers stayed still, tugging on their weapons as though they had suddenly become much heavier. Then the warrior would descend upon them, severing their heads from their bodies and sending ribbons of scarlet flying from their throats. Not long after the woman's sword changed once more, but this time into a spear that she used to devastating effect clearing a circle around her as she whipped it around with equal amounts grace, precision, and lethality. Once she had enough room her weapon once more turned into a rifle and she opened fire upon the panicking and enraged soldiers before switching her rifle once more into a sword as they closed in on her, repeating the cycle.

As Jaune stood and watched the horrifyingly mesmerizing spectacle before him he became aware of a change in the battlefield. All across the plains the Mistralians were suddenly on the defensive as newcomers much like the angel tore through the invaders' frontlines. One, a blur of red and a trail of rose petals, zipped in between dozens of soldiers, decapitating them with blade and gunshot alike. Another wielded the elements to catastrophic effect, freezing soldiers in place while scorching others to cinders. In the distance Jaune could hear and feel the rumble of explosions and turned in time to see mushroom clouds of pink- pink?- as bodies flew into the air. He could only stare dumbfounded around the battlefield at the sudden switch. Before, defeat had been guaranteed. Now it seemed as though nothing could stop them from achieving victory. Just who were these people?

"C'mon boys, let's give our Hunters a warm welcome!" A gruff voice shouted behind Jaune and was received with a hearty chorus from the nearby soldiers, including Jaune. It appeared that the young Arc wasn't the only one who had felt the change of fate. The rallied Valeans surged forward as one into the dazed Mistralian army, going on the offensive for the first time since the war had begun. It was a resounding success. It wasn't long before Jaune managed to catch sight of the red haired beauty from before, the young woman holding her own against seven soldiers at once. She was sweating heavily and it looked to the blonde as though she was beginning to tire, but to his constant surprise she stayed strong, never faltering in her slashes and dodges. She was constantly spinning, her blade and shield a blur as they cut into the enemy soldiers and slammed blades away from her body. It looked as though none of them would be able to put a scratch on her.

Then a large man pushed past his fellow soldiers and slammed his mace down upon the redhead. The young woman, to her credit, took the full brunt of the blow on her shield and didn't budge, the only sign that she was affected being a loud grunt of effort. Jaune saw the woman concentrate and the brute's mace move an inch, but that was it. The brute grinned and the woman scowled and the two squared off, strength against strength. It was at that moment that Jaune saw what the redhead had failed to. He sprinted forward, running faster than he ever had before, praying that he was in time.

He slashed his sword down right behind the fiery angel and slammed a blade that had been meant for her into the ground.

The Mistralian looked shocked to see his attack effectively nullified and Jaune couldn't help but feel a grim sense of satisfaction as he slid his blade up the other man's sword, his beloved Crocea Mors cutting into his enemy with ease.

He didn't waste any time turning towards the still entangled pair, taking note of the brute's heavy armor. Sliding past the two he stabbed the Mistralian giant in the back of his leg, causing the man to roar in agony and collapse on his bad leg. The woman was upon the brute in an instant and finished him off almost as quickly. She looked up from her grisly work and flashed him a quick smile before a war horn sounded from the Mistralian side of the battlefield. The blonde and the redhead tensed, both bringing up their weapons, ready for anything. Then the enemy soldiers began to run away from Vale's defenders, the horn continuing to blare urgently. The Mistralians continued to run into the distance until Jaune couldn't see them anymore and the reports of Vale's riflemen faded to nothing.

There was silence on the battlefield for three whole seconds before Vale's defenders let out unanimous shouts of victory, pure joy overriding any negative they might otherwise have felt at that moment. Jaune couldn't keep a grin off of his face as he glanced at the woman beside him, who gave him a cautious smile in return. Why wasn't she as excited as the rest of them? They had just slaughtered the Mistralians!... oh.

Jaune's grin slowly left his face, morphing into a pensive frown as the battlefield grew silent once more, the rest of the Valean army realizing along with Jaune what their victory had just cost them. There would be much drinking tonight trying to get over guilt and loss, though Jaune would not be among them. He thought of that kind of behavior as the easy way out. If he had taken the futures of those he had managed to kill then the least he could do was live life for them, in their stead. Getting loaded and passing out was not a great way to live.

He turned once more to the red-haired angel next to him and, stabbing his sword into the ground, extended his good hand towards her. The young woman's vibrant green eyes widened before she shook his hand with a small smile. "My name's Jaune Arc," he told her quietly, letting a smile of his own once more travel onto his face.

"Pyrhha, Pyrhha Nikos."

The two of them, along with the rest of Vale's forces, would beat back the Mistralians and bring victory to Vale in the first Great War. They had just earned their first victory in a long and bloody conflict. The war would cost both of them dearly and would test them to their breaking points. Loyalties to family and country would be tried in the heat of war and the cold of the aftermath, and they would both lose those dear to them along the way. But the friendship they had forged in that first victory, which was solidified through overcoming the challenges generously thrown their way, would last long after the scars from the war finally faded.

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 **Did ya miss me? It's true, after months of inactivity, and lack of access to computer, I'm finally back!... and none of you know who I am. But that's fine! Hopefully you'll remember me after having read this. Anyway, for those of you who do know me and care enough to at least be interested by my absence, I admittedly waited a week or two before posting this as I wanted my return to fanfiction to be spectacular. So I decided to write new chapters for all of the stories I plan on continuing and posting them at the same time. I thought it was a pretty good idea when it first occurred to me.**

 **This oneshot actually came to me months ago after reading a really good story about, you guessed it, Jaune and Pyrhha. I can't remember the exact storyline (again, months ago), but it showed an AU where Jaune never dreamed of becoming a warrior and Pyrhha went on to become a legend. It got me thinking of what it would be like if Jaune never became a Hunter, never dreamed of it. The result, after many daydreams during classes I should've been paying attention in and tests that I should have studied for, is this. I wanted a different storyline from the story I read, as well as a chance to test my action writing. I like the end result and I hope you all do as well. Now then, I'll stop taking up your time. I'll hopefully see you all next time.**

 **Foxtrot Agent 21, out.**


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